


so i cross my heart and hope to die

by cerie



Series: Payback [1]
Category: Canadian Actor RPF, Sanctuary (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin’s never liked owing anyone anything but this, he thinks, is something he doesn’t mind being indebted for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so i cross my heart and hope to die

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam. For reasons.

Trying to tell you no, but my body keeps on telling you yes  
Trying to tell you stop, but your lipstick got me so out of breath  
I'd be waking up, in the morning probably hating myself  
And I'd be waking up, feeling satisfied but guilty as hell 

\- “One More Night” by Maroon 5

***

Contrary to popular belief, Robin’s not actually a dick. Before the divorce, he was sweet and goofy and kind of romantic and after left him a little bitter inside. It doesn’t help that he spent the better part of five years working with someone he couldn’t have, least of all because she was married to someone else. Hands off, but not by choice, and he’s not blind. He’s always been able to tell that Amanda wants him and he plays along with it to a certain extent, flirts with the line, but there’s always a line.

But then the show got canceled and the steady stream of personal appearances and promotion events trickled to a stop. Amanda gets wrapped up in directing and in filming her own projects and he picks up work on a webseries and moves back to Toronto. He makes an attempt at having a girlfriend, which means fucking the same girl more than twice in a row, and while he’s got no desire to ever get married again, it’s sort of nice to have some stability.

It all goes to hell when he flies to Montreal to film Match Game. It’s a throwaway project, something mostly to pay the bills and get his face on TV, and it affords him an opportunity to see Amanda. He hasn’t seen her in person since the Leos and it’s nice to see her, give her a hug, play catch-up. The show itself is a chance to be a little zany and a lot lewd and it’s fun to give her shit on camera and have her give him shit back. Almost like old times, in a way.

One day during filming, they all go out for a late lunch at a bar and Robin makes a point to sit across from Amanda and not beside her. She’s been giving him all the flirty signals and while he really, really wants to believe it, he knows it’s probably just Amanda. She flirts with everyone she meets and he’s not the first and hardly going to be the last. He’s friendly, always, but hanging the moon on her hasn’t worked out so well in the past.

He’s working his way through a burger and a pint of Guinness when he feels a delicate little foot sliding up the inside of his calf. Considering he doesn’t think anyone else at the table would be playing footsie with him, he shoots Amanda a questioning look and gets a beaming smile in return. Robin studiously ignores this and goes back to his food; suddenly, his pint of Guinness is a hell of a lot more interesting than it was five minutes ago.

When he feels her foot again, this time daring to slide up into his lap, he decides that he should check his phone. Granted, it’s turned on and he hasn’t heard the chirp of notifications or heard it ring but they don’t have to know that. He could be receiving a very important text message _right this minute._ As it is, there’s just a couple that are several hours old and have nothing to do with work but it’s enough of an excuse that he flashes a smile to the table and announces that he has to make a phone call. They’re all working actors, so they get it, and it’s not long before everyone goes back to their own conversations and blocks him out.

The bathroom in this bar is just a single, so you’re SOL if you need to piss and there’s someone else in there. Luckily, this time of day, there’s nobody there except his table and none of them are in the bathroom anyway so Robin slips inside and takes a few deep breaths. He splashes a little water on his face and he figures that he’s more or less calmed down before he hears the door swinging in.

“Jesus, Amanda. I could have been anyone,” he says, knowing damn good and well that she knows there wasn’t a chance of there being anyone else in this bathroom. Besides, he hadn’t locked the door, and that’s on him. He runs his hand through his hair and manages to make it messier than usual. That’s an accomplishment. He’s still looking at his reflection in the mirror when he speaks again but his eyes slide over a little to hers. Christ, she’s gorgeous. What’s worse is that she knows it.

“Could you give me a break? I’m trying to behave.” It sounds a little thinner than he wants, a little whinier, and he curls his fingers against the porcelain of the sink in an attempt to get it together. He doesn’t understand why she baits him. He doesn’t really want to be an asshole and she has a life that has nothing to do with his. She has the kind of life he’s dreamed about, if he’s perfectly honest, and it’s not fair for him to fuck that up for her. Still, it’s _Amanda_ and he’ll do anything for her. 

It says something that his brain instantly supplies “But I won’t do that,” and he makes a mental note to stop running the 80s playlist on a loop in his car.

“I’m tired of behaving,” Amanda says and it’s a little petulant. She draws closer and presses her palm against his chest. There’s fabric between her and his skin but he can still feel the warmth and he closes his eyes and just sighs. It’s too much, sometimes, and he can’t always be a good guy. More often than not, he fails. Amanda’s hand slides down and brushes against the front of his jeans and he knows that his good intentions are just fucked. She feels too good. It feels too right.

In the five seconds he gets to think before she’s sliding down to her knees and her fingers are fumbling at his belt, Robin considers locking the door. Anyone could walk in, as proven by Amanda herself, and he’s not looking for this to get out or for him to put on a show for his coworkers and the greater Montreal area. He decides that he’ll just leave it unlocked because the fear of discovery, the chance he might get caught with his pants around his ankles and Amanda Tapping’s gorgeous mouth around his cock...it thrills him.

He takes in a shaky breath and tangles his fingers in her hair when she gets his jeans and boxers down and just touches him with light, curious fingertips. She brushes her thumbs along the lines where his hips meet his thighs and the sound he lets out is both indecent and pathetic. He twists his hand in her hair and pulls, hard, and Amanda giggles and leans in and breathes against his cock. It’s just a puff of warm air but he knows where it’s coming from and that’s enough to make him rock his hips toward her face so his cock brushes against the soft skin of her cheek.

“You going to just stare at it or are you going to do something about it?”

He wants it to sound demanding and macho and it comes off more needy than anything. He’s dreamed about this exact situation more times than he can count and he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s fantasized about it with his own hand wrapped around his cock more times than that. Amanda flicks her tongue a little and it feels so fucking good that he makes a needy sound under his breath. More. Preferably now.

She’s been such a tease that Robin isn’t entirely prepared for her to slide her mouth down along the length of him, the head of his cock brushing the back of her throat. He swallows, hard, and then she does and he’s lost it. He rocks against her, thrusting shallowly, and she seems to be all right with it based on the hum in her throat and the way she just takes him as deep as possible. He chances looking down at her and is greeted with the vision of berry-colored lips wrapped around his cock and a flush on her pale cheeks. Her eyes are closed and her lashes fan out beneath them, entirely too beautiful for a woman on her knees giving him head in a bathroom.

It’s such a fucking dichotomy, classy, beautiful Amanda sucking him off like some drunk girl at a party and it’s just hotter when he knows that neither of them are drunk and have gone into this with open eyes. He makes the attempt to warn her before he comes, tightens his grip and pulls her back a little but Amanda fights it and swallows again; apparently gag reflexes don’t exist in her world. Good to know.

When he comes, everything slows down for a minute and he swears he feels a little dizzy. He thrusts against her mouth twice more and then stops and loosens the grip in her hair to pet it instead. Amanda slides her mouth off slowly and there’s a little audible pop when her lips slip off his dick. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

She stands and pops herself up to sit on the edge of the sink, looking excessively pleased with herself, and it takes him a minute to tug his jeans back up and come back to the world of the living. Once he does, he steps closer and cups her cheeks before tilting her head back and kissing her. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, the kind you see in movies, and Amanda curls her hand around the back of his neck and slides her mouth down to catch his lower lip between her teeth. He’s wanted to kiss Amanda for longer than he’s wanted her to suck his cock and today’s a banner day all around.

When he finally breaks away, he gives her a little smile. “Do you think you can behave?”

Amanda smirks and shakes her head. “Not on your life, buddy. You owe me one. Don’t even try to weasel out of it. I will be cashing my favor in sometime in the very near future.”

Robin’s never liked owing anyone anything but this, he thinks, is something he doesn’t mind being indebted for.


End file.
